


To the North

by Talullah



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: Aredhel embarks on an adventure to meet old friends and make new.
Relationships: Aredhel/OFC
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5
Collections: 2020 My Slashy Valentine





	To the North

**Author's Note:**

  * For [senalishia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/senalishia/gifts).



Aman, T.A. 1389

Travelling in the summer entails heat, dust, insects, thirst, sweat and general discomfort. Aredhel wondered what had possessed her to accept the invitation her long lost friend Ecthelion had sent her to visit him “up North”, and to do it so eagerly she could not have waited a few months for a better time. Still, when she had read his letter, she immediately started thinking on what to pack, the best road to take, the nagging she would endure from her mother. And, was she not settled in a happy, peaceful life. She folded the letter and placed it at the bottom of a drawer. This lasted a week, during which the letter seemed to glow from behind the wood, whenever she entered the room.

On the eighth day, she jumped from her solitary bed at the first light of the sun and galloped toward her desk, in search of the letter she meant to forget. To the “North” it was. She was curious about that enclave, village, haven, or whatever it was, that attracted so much gossip and disdain from the proper people of Tírion. Some said it was a wild place, with no rules, no traditional order, others said it had a king, Gil-Galad, who was in a secret war against the Valar, others spoke wistfully of its primitiveness.

Although impulsive, Aredhel was not stupid. As much as she yearned to go, she would make sure to have a fully formed travel plan before announcing her decision to her mother. On that aspect, Ecthelion had made it easy for her, for he had suggested that she travelled along a group that was soon to leave from Tol Eressëa. She knew what people said about the refugees from Middle-Earth. And she knew what people said about the communes in the North. And she knew she had been suffocating for a very long time, living with a mother who never stopped sighing for the Return of her husband and other two sons, as if her early release from the Halls of Mandos meant nothing.

Aredhel and Argon often exchanged exasperated glances when, in the middle of a family gathering, Anaïre started going on and on about how Findekáno would do this and Turukáno would say that. They loved their brothers and missed their father, but Anaïre seemed completely incapable of simply enjoying the lovely family Argon was building with his wife or Aredhel’s efforts to soothe her pain. And she seemed to ignore that Aredhel herself might miss her brothers, father and above all, her son. 

But the letter represented more than an escape route from a dull, comfortable, and meaningless life. And so Aredhel got dressed, grabbed the letter and left home without eating, heading for her brother’s home lower on the hill.

“Arakáno, brother,” she called out through an open window. Aredhel loved her nephews dearly, the little, rambunctious pests, but today she hoped that they would still be sleeping - otherwise it would be impossible to have anything resembling a decent conversation.

She was lucky. Arakáno came to the window, his eyes squinting. “Írissë? What happened?”

Aredhel smiled. “Nothing. Well, something. Can we talk?”

And, just like that, her adventure started. Within four days Argon had helped her in making all the contacts, preparing her travelling gear and most importantly, breaking the news to Anairë and weathering the storm of objections, recriminations, and ominous guesses their mother had created.

And now, here she was, riding a horse through a meadow, since, after while there were no more roads, in a group of people she didn’t know, sweating her soul out, but happy. 

The group was composed of about twenty people. Five were from the North and led the rest on. There was numerous Sindar family, all tragically slain during the War of the Last Alliance and reborn in Aman, whose names Aredhel could never remember, a young Noldo couple who had never set foot outside Aman, a handsome Teleri man who kept mostly to himself, and a talkative musician who had a gorgeous mane of red hair. Were it not for his softer features, Aredhel could have sworn he was his cousin’s Maedhros’ son.

The journey was expected to last a fortnight but Aredhel found that she loved being out in the wild again and was not impatient at all, despite all the discomforts she initially registered. She also loved how slowly, everybody started to relax around her, forgetting all the deference owed to a princess. it reminded her of Nevrast, when Idril was already grown, and Turgon was not yet building the hidden city, and she would go out with Salgant or Egalmoth, of even Gildor, when he deigned to visit them, and they would play cards and drink ale at the inns of the port.

The journey felt long, as any journey one embarks on for the first time, not knowing the way, but when they saw, at last, bluish smoke rising up in the distance, Aredhel lamented to herself that it had been cut short. She could start to see the beauty of Gildor’s life, roaming in the wilderness, embracing the idea that you will be covered in dust no matter what, enjoying the cold creeks one might come upon, sleeping under the stars… She had loved to go out hunting with Celegorm and Curufin to hunt, but it was different.

They descended through a long and narrow path that snaked to the village below. It was closer to the sea than she thought - she could hear gulls, although she could not quite see the sea over the hills. It was truly odd to travel without a map.

They arrived after sunset and were warmly greeted by a small comitive. Ectheion was not there and Aredhel felt a little foolish and lost while everyone found their own people - the guides were greeted by their spouses, the large Sindar family had an equally large group of cousins and uncles waiting for them, the musician all but ran into the arms of someone Aredhel assumed was his lover, the young couple was met by a friend…

Only the handsome Teleri and her remained still, looking around for someone or something, standing beside his horse.

“Well, I guess I shall try to find my friend,” Aredhel said, dismounting and taking her horse to the fountain in the middle of the square they had stopped in.

“Ecthelion?” the Teleri asked.

“Yes,” Aredhel replied, wondering at the familiar tone the Teleri had used when referring to her friend.

“My sister should be arriving at any minute,” he said. “She’s always late. From her letters, I know she is a good friend of his, so she might be able to help you.”

Aredhel nodded in thanks. As if arranged, Ecthelion and a woman with the fiercest, bluest eyes she had ever seen, came around the large building in front of which the group had stopped. They were laughing about something and the woman’s hand was casually placed on Ecthelion’s arm. Aredhel immediately thought of Glorfindel, wondering what were the rules of engagement after death and rebirth for them.

Ecthelion hastened his step towards her and the woman toward her brother. Aredhel only had time to wrap her arms around his neck as he lifted her up and swirled her around.

“Rissë!! How good to see you, my friend,” he said, placing her down.

Aredhel started laughing. “Oh, no one has called me that in ages. Look at you!” she said, clasping his hands tightly, realizing just how much she had missed her dear friend.

“No, look at you! You’re gorgeous as always! Eru, I’ve missed you!”

They hugged again, laughing, until Aredhel started sobbing.

Ecthelion held her tighter. “Shh, shh, darling. Shh.” He kissed her hair and rocked her until she stopped. “I know,” he whispered, “I know.”

Aredhel took the handkerchief he discretely gave her and blew her nose. “Varda, I don’t know what overcame me,” she said, embarrassed as she noticed that the brother and sister were looking at them, waiting.

Ecthelion smiled. “Don’t worry. But come, now, we’re running out of light and I want to get you home before it’s dark. You’ve met Melion along the way, I assume. And this is Melime, his sister,” he presented.

Aredhel politely nodded. “Glad to make your acquaintance.”

“Come on, then,” Melime said. “I’ve got stew and I’ve just baked. You must be very hungry and ready for a bath.”

Aredhel looked at Ecthelion with a raised eyebrow, as the brother and sister started walking up the street. 

Ecthelion grinned. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Come on,” Aredhel teased.

Ecthelion laughed. “No, it’s really not like that. I’m still hung over a certain blond who sailed away to Middle-earth and doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to return, and she… well, let’s just say that I’m not to her taste at all. You, however…” Ecthelion winked and placed his arm around Aredhel’s shoulder.

Soon they arrived at a modest home, but, as Aredhel noticed, all the houses except for the large building they had stopped by, were small and funcional. It was painted white, with a bright blue door and matching windows. Around them, other homes shared the same blue, others had bright yellow, red, orange, green colouring. The colours were muted under the fading light but she imagined that they would be a festival of colour under the midday sun.

They went in, while Ecthelion took the horses around back. Melime showed Aredhel to a small room and told her to put her thing down.

Turning to her brother, she asked, “Bath or food first?”

“Bath!” Melion exclaimed. 

“I second that,” Aredhel said. “If the stew can wait.”

“Ah, it can, no worries. I never make fussy food.”

Aredhel quite believed her. From the little she had seen so far, Melime seemed to be the embodiment of pragmatism.

“Alright,” she said. “We normally resort to the communal bath, but this being your first time here up North, we prepared a tub out in the back patio.”

“Thank you,” said Aredhel. “You needn’t have troubled yourself.”

Melime smiled. “Not a problem. Enjoy it - it will be your last home bath, unless you start preparing it yourself.” She winked, but Aredhel knew she was dead serious without the need of any confirmation.

In the patio, out on the back, there was a tub large enough for two, maybe three people, depending on the degree of intimacy. It was full of water, pleasantly tepid to Aredhel’s fingers. Above, a nice pergola covered in greenery promised lovely shade during the day. Further along, after the patio, a large vegetable garden glistened in silver hues under the full moon. Aredhel looked around and found herself alone. She did not know the etiquette, but, remembering that Melion also wanted a bath, she guessed that he was probably close by, just waiting for her to get in. She was old enough not to be demure. Her clothes, though, were caked with dust and sweat and taking them off was not gracefully done. She didn’t care, though - she was not putting on a show.

She entered the water with a sigh and let herself submerge completely, staying under for as long as she could. When she came up, she heard hushed voices, but did not turn to see who it was. Letting the weariness of the days on the road melt from her limbs, she gently, slowly, washed herself, enjoying the scented soap and the moonlight. After a while, realizing that Melion was not coming, she rose from the water and wrapped herself around a towel.

“You can come, now. It’s all yours,” she called.

Melime was the one to answer. “You’d not expect such prudeness from a boy who was raised running around half-naked in the piers of Alqualondë.”

Aredhel turned to face the voice. Even under the cool light of the moon, Melime’s colours were stunning. Her hair was now burnished, warm silver, and her eyes, the darkest sapphires.

“Ah, there you are. I’m sorry - I wasn’t sure of what to do, no one was around and so I stepped in.”

“And quite rightly too. But come in now, and get dressed. Melion will be us shortly so we can eat and talk for a little while.” 

Aredhel followed Melime inside and went to her room. Her luggage was still unpacked. She smiled to herself and searched for a dress. After two weeks in travelling gear, the flowing, soft white cotton fabric felt like a real luxury. She reclined on the bed just for a moment, enjoying the coolness of the room. After what felt like mere moments, she woke up with a start. The air was much cooler now, but someone had covered her with a blanket. It was dark, and she guessed that the moon had already set. She would have to apologize to the hostess in the morning, but for now, the only thing to do was to try to go back to sleep.

\---

For about a week Aredhel roamed freely through town. Everyone seemed so busy, working in their shops in pottery, weaving, baking, basketing, or going off into the fields and beyond the mountains into the sea, to cultivate, hunt, and fish the food of every day. Still, people were happy, it seemed. Everyone had a kind word and a moment to spare her. Ecthelion showed her around but he often wander off to work on his own projects. She was lodged at Melime’s house because Ecthelion was repairing the roof of his own house. He had not counted that she would come so swiftly after his invitation. As she understood, he was, true to his interests, a sort of water engineer of the place, and delighted himself in designing the grid for the public and private water supply of the place. Aredhel amused herself in following him through some excavations, and once into the hills, to the main water caption.

At night, they would eat at Melime’s or in any other house to which they were invited. Then Ecthelion would retire to his house, in which he insisted on sleeping in, even with only beams for a roof, and Aredhel would help Melime tidy up. After, they would sit in the back, under the stars and talk for a while, sometimes with Melion, other times alone.

One night, Ecthelion excused himself early, saying that Gil-galad would return the next day and he needed to be up early.

After he was gone, Melime and Aredhel were left alone, as Melion was out with the red-haired musician and other friends he had made, despite his quietness.

“So,” Aredhel asked, “is Gil-galad your king? It’s funny that we are relatives and yet have never crossed paths.”

Melime shook her head. “I wouldn’t say king, although many people think of him that way.”

Aredhel raised an eyebrow, questioningly.

“He represents us,” Melime said, “when we have to deal with the outside. And he was one of the first people coming up here to the North. There are other villages, as you know by now, spread here and there.”

“How does it work?”

“There’s a council that is chosen yearly and we decide what to do with our time and resources. I was in the council two years ago. There was some water shortage in the summer, and it wasn’t the first time, and we that was when we decided to ask Ecthelion to come and see what could be done. As you probably noticed, while travelling here, there are the mountains near the sea, rising really high, and on the inland, there’s a lower plateau. We have a lot of water ready to be used, with the right engineering, but we don’t have a lot of rainfall.”

“You could have built the village elsewhere…” Aredhel pointed out.

“Quite true, but there are some natural advantages in living here too. There’s a large deposit of clay, and that is why you see so many potters - we produce ceramics for all of the villages and export some to the south, by the sea.”

Aredhel nodded. “Some of the work I’ve seen is truly exquisite.”

“Speaking of which…” Melime said, “Have you thought about what you are going to do?”

“How so?” Aredhel asked.

“Are you staying for a long visit, have you come to live here, permanently, is there any job you’d like to take up?” Melime smiled. “You know this is no country for idle princesses.”

Aredhel laughed. “Thankfully. I’ve only been an idle princess since returning from Mandos, you know.” She realized she sounded defensive.

“I know. Ecthelion speaks the world of you, and of all the hard work you’ve done in Nevrast and Gondolin.”

Aredhel looked up surprised.

“He does,” Melime continued. “You shouldn’t look surprised.”

Aredhel rested thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I am, actually. People always seem to refer to my less stellar moments. You know, making a tantrum to leave the hidden city, running off into the mist, caring nothing for my escort, marrying the crazy wood elf, spawning…” Aredhel cut herself short.

Melime shook her head. “I’m sure you had your reasons and every story has two sides. Many sides, actually. And whatever mistakes you might have made do not invalidate the good things you’ve accomplished for yourself and others. And from what Ecthelion tells me, that was quite a lot.”

“Thank you,” Aredhel said. She was surprised at the turn the conversation had taken. She was also uncomfortable discussing such things with a woman who she barely knew, even if she already liked her very much.

After a pause, Aredhel poured them another cup of the sangria left from dinner.

“How about you?” she asked. “What made you want to come up here?”

Melime smiled. “Alright, let’s not talk about you.” Aredhel smiled back. She really liked how direct and smart Melime was. 

“I was in love with someone,” Melime started. “We lived together, just off of Alqualondë and I thought we were happy, but she wanted to try something new. Said she was stifled by all the social conventions. Said she wanted to hold my hand and kiss me under the sun, just as if we were man and woman. You Noldor are, of course, much more lenient than us Teleri in such things.”

Aredhel nodded, just for the sake of the flow of the conversation, as she failed to see where the leniency lied.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Melime said, “but let’s have that debate on another day.”

Aredhel smiled. “Alright. Go on then… if you’d like.”

Melime shook her head. “That’s alright. It doesn’t hurt anymore. The story is short. She fell in love with someone else, as soon as we arrived, and now lives happily married somewhere in Tírion.”

“And you stayed.”

“I did. I suppose I also fell in love, but with this place. I like how rough and wild and simple everything is.”

“I like it too, a lot,” Aredhel said. ‘And I like how you seem to read my mind,’ she thought to herself.

~~~

The next day, Aredhel went to the house of a woman she had met the day before. She had started to learn how to spin linen and, to her surprise, she really enjoyed it. To her mother’s chagrin, she had always hated embroidery, painting and all the delicate arts that required a lot of time sitting inside. She was a huntress, a rider, a tamer, not a homemaker. But in the company of her new friend and her family, the task was fun. There was some skill involved, and she was eager to master it. Another thing that she liked, was that it produced something useful, not just a decorative piece that would serve to evaluate her value as a proper, marriable princess of the Noldor.

She was sitting by a window in the small living room, wrestling with the spindle, her arms and back starting to ache, when she heard Ecthelion’s voice outside, calling out for her.

She went out and found beside her friend a tall, dark-haired man.

“Gil, this is my friend, Aredhel, your cousin.”

Gil-galad looked at the spindle in her hands and smiled. “Much pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Aredhel,” he said, smiling.

Aredhel was surprised at the formality of the words, but from the twinkle in his eyes, she took it as a joke or a test

“Likewise, my famous cousin, but could we dispense with the formalities?”

Gil-galad’s smile opened as did his arms and he took her in a warm embrace.

“I told you she was good,” Ecthelion said, grinning.

“Indeed,” said Gil-galad letting Aredhel go. “I see that you are already busying yourself.”

“Isn't that the spirit of the place?” Aredhel asked. “Self-reliance, independence, simplicity, hard-work?”

Gil-galad raised an eyebrow. “I see that Melime has indoctrinated you well.”

Ecthelion laughed. “No one indoctrinates Rissë.”

Aredhel laughed too. “Thank you. No, she and I have barely talked about politics. It’s just that the ethic of this place is evident in every little detail. And I quite like it.”

“Good,” said Gil-galad. “Good. You forgot ‘happy’ in your list, though.” He smiled. “I must say I’m rather surprised at Melime, though. She has quite an affinity for conceptual politics, and she loves to proselytise. I keep telling her to write a book.”

“She seems quite intelligent,” Aredhel said, “and she’s a lovely host.”

“Liar,” said Ecthelion, laughing. “She makes you carry your own bath water or go to the public houses.”

Aredhel laughed. “True. And I must compliment you - the new house is lovely. When I arrived I thought it was a temple or the city hall, as it was the only imponent building in sight. It turned out that you people have an obsession with water.”

“Quite true, we do,” Gil-galad said. “It’s a good thing we have our Ecthelion here. But, we’re interrupting your afternoon. I just wanted to come by and meet you. Would you like to have dinner at my house tonight?” he asked. “You are much welcome, Ecthelion, and Melime too.”

“It would be a pleasure, cousin,” Aredhel said. Although she had just met him, she already liked Gil-galad, who was not at all the stern, pragmatic high king she envisioned from all the rumours. She placed a hand in his arm and squeezed lightly. “Thank you.”

~~~

Gil-galad’s house was as simple as everyone else’s, but decorated with many objects, sculptures, paintings, rocks, shells… Ecthelion told her that those were gifts from the many people he had helped settle along the years. When they arrived, Gil-galad was still cooking dinner, a simple fish stew. They helped with a few minor tasks while Melime went out into the back to enjoy the last light of the day.

“Your patch is a disgrace,” she said, when she was called inside for dinner. “You travel too much to take proper care of it. You should let us help you, sometime.”

Gil-galad covered her hand with his. “Shh, eat, enjoy the side of greens and potatoes, which are all from the great, disgraceful vegetable garden, and remember that we’re talked about this before.”

“Listen, there’s a world of difference in letting your friends weed out a little and having servants and underlings. I know you don’t want, at all costs, to be confused with a king, but you do so much for everyone - couldn’t you let us help you in return sometime?”

“I second that,” Ecthelion said.

“You don’t have the time either,” Melime cut. “Let me ask my brother and his friends. In one afternoon, they’d do wonders and it would be all fun for them - you see how the runaround, doing everything, with that red-head playing music all day long. They look as if they are in a perpetual ball.”

“He was a great acquisition,” Ecthelion said, grinning. “Really livens up the young people. And I hear your brother is starting out as a beekeeper with Talion?”

“Yes, he loves it, but don’t change the subject.”

Aredhel grinned. “I can help too, and that’s settled, cousin.”

Gil-galad made a sour face. “Just this one time, alright?”

~~~

The dinner was lovely and fun. Aredhel felt a little intoxicated as she walked back to Melime’s house, and wondered if it was just the wine. The scent of jasmine, the warm nocturnal air, Melime’s warm hand on her arm, the stars above… everything felt quite right and simple, and she liked that, for a change.

When they arrived, Melime yawned and stretched. “Well, it’s awfully late,” she said, lingering by the door to her room. Aredhel’s room was next to hers. Melion was staying with friends and the house was completely silent. They had not bothered lighting candles and the faint glow of the waning moon coming through the windows was their only light.

“It is late,” Aredhel said, smiling and leaning against the door jamb. “You were superb with Gil-galad, you know. I’ve been, for the longest time, fed up with people who tell others what to do, but you are special, aren’t you?”

Melime looked down, then away. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was,” said Aredhel. “Not a lot of people are good at interfering in others people’s lives. I’ve been here for little over a week, and it’s a pleasure seeing you setting the world straight. Your assertiveness is blended with just the right amount of generosity.”

“You drank too much,” Melime said, smiling as she tenderly looked into Aredhel’s eyes.

“I did, but it’s fine. Do you want to tell me how a Teleri woman has the eyes and hair of a Vanya? And how come your brother doesn’t?”

“Chance, I guess. We had the same Vanya grandmother as did our cousins but I’m the only one with this colouring. Simple story.”

Aredhel nodded, shifting her weight on her feet.

“Want to tell me why your eyes follow the children playing on the streets so hungrily but you never mention your son?” Melime asked, her voice perfectly relaxed.

Aredhel was taken aback. For a moment, she had wondered what it would feel like to touch Melime’s warm flesh, to kiss her full lips. It had been a long time since she had desired anyone and the feeling had crept up on her. The question, though, was unexpected and instantly killed the burgeoning desire she had felt moments before.

“Lómion…” she whispered. 

“You don’t have to talk,” Melime said. “Maybe that was insensitive, even for me.”

“You are not insensitive, only direct. But I am not sure I want to talk about my son. I won’t suffer to hear, again, how monstrous he was, even if it is to tell me that I am not to blame. So many people in the family did so many terrible things, but they are heroes. My son, whom they never met, is the traitor. He was, from all accounts, and I hope to hear from his mouth, one day, what drove him to it. But he was also a loving child, a young boy smart as a whip, and so beautiful. I am the only one who truly knew him, from before Eöl stopped loving us and we had to escape. Before he had to harden up. People seem to forget that he saw his father murder his mother, then being executed. I was not there for him. The only mistake I truly regret was to fill his head with stories about a land that was a gilded prison…”

Aredhel stood straight. “I’m sorry, I’m off to bed.”

Melime placed a hand on her arm. “Wait. I’m sorry… I don’t mean to hurt you. But you seem to keep so many things inside you, despite your warm and carefree manner…”

Aredhel touched Melime’s hand on her arm. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t wish to discuss it any longer, but it was good to talk with someone who didn’t jump to judgement.”

“Any time… Good night.”

Melime was standing so close that Aredhel could feel the warmth irradiating from her body. 

“Good night,” she replied. On an impulse, she kissed Melime’s cheek, close to the corner of her lips.

Before Melime could react, she withdrew to her room and gently closed the door.

~~~

A week went by. Melime organized a group and in an afternoon they helped Gil-galad with his garden. Aredhel participated gladly. The next day she went to the cost with a fishing party. There was a tiny path carved through the steep valleys, and such a trip required a very early rise and a few days away. In the winter they brought back fresh fish, but in the summer, most of the catch had to be quickly conserved in smoke or salt. Aredhel loved the days away at the sea, but she found that her thoughts kept turning to Melime. There were little things that she saw or learned that she wanted to share with her friend, and she missed laughing together about almost everything.

When she was returned, she was disappointed to find a note on the kitchen table. “Out with Gil to Eriad.”

Eriad was a village even further north, and farther away from the coast, that produced mainly iron ore and metal objects, ranging from horseshoes to cutlery, to weapons. Aredhel had heard Gil-galad and Melime talking about trade and agricultural tools, but she had not realized that Melime was to go too.

She prepared a simple dinner for herself and Melion and went to bed early.

She only saw Melime at dinner, the next day. It felt like an empty day, although she had time to visit friends.

“How was the trip?” she asked Melime, after dinner.

“Good. We came to an agreement.”

“You must be quite tired.”

“Indeed,” Melime said, “but I still have the energy to hear a little about your day. How are your exploits going?”

“Well. Today I made bread at Almiel’s home. I brought some.”

“Was that the bread we had for dinner?”

“Yes.” 

“It was lovely. Quite fluffy and yet moist.”

“Thank you. Almiel is a good teacher.”

“So, is that what you are going to be, when you decide to stay with us? A baker? Or are you planning on going back to Tírion.”

“Always straight as an arrow, aren’t you,” Aredhel said. “I don’t know if I’m going to be a baker. I always hated these domestic activities. Of course we had people who cooked and baked and sewed and cleaned for us, but my parents made sure that we - no, I - had a good idea on how everything was done, so that one day I could be a good wife to someone. I hated it all. But now, I find it lovely.”

“Maybe because it is your choice to do it.”

“Probably. But, returning to your questions, yes, I think I am staying for a long, long time. This is paradise. I know it sounds crazy, I’ve been here for only a month, I don’t have a house, I didn’t bring that much money and it doesn’t have a great value here either… but the only thing I miss from Tirion is my brother and nephews. I love it here. I feel alive. It’s paradise.”

“It is not. People quarrel, just like in any other place.”

“I am sure that they do and that many other unpleasant things happen, and I know that right now what I have is a superficial and romantic view of things. But I really love being here and I want to stay.”

“Good. But you must also find a way to earn your keep.”

“I know that. And a place to live in.”

“You are welcome here for as long as you want. This house is too big for me, but, in the beginning, when I moved here with my lover, we shared it with another couple.”

“Thank you.” Aredhel said. “You know what I want to do?”

“Tell me.”

“I want to hunt. I may be finding that, afterall I love baking and all the domestic arts, but I am still me. And I know I can capture enough game to feed myself and to trade with others if I need more food.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Melime said, yawning. “I’m sorry, my tiredness just caught up with me.”

“I feel sleepy too.”

Aredhel and Melime walked to their rooms. Before saying goodnight, Melime embraced Aredhel for a long time. “I am glad you are staying,” she said. Something in her voice moved Aredhel deeply.

~~~

A few months went by. Ecthelion’s roof was finished before the first sparse rains of the cold season, but Aredhel politely refused his invitation to move to his house. She also postponed Gil-galad’s offer to gather the village people to build her a house. Melion moved in with the red-haired musician. Aredhel and Melime had no idea if they were lovers or close friends, but they did not give it much thought. Aredhel started hunting and made a good living out of the game and furs. Melime was elected once more to the council and had many meetings to attend.

Before they realised, time had flown by and it was spring. They had spent many nights talking, arguing, making plans, laughing. Aredhel saw Melime as a friend, but she knew, deep down, that she also desired her. And she thought that Melime wanted her too, but it was an enigma for her that someone so direct as Melime would not to act upon her desire.

One day she decided to be as direct with Melime as Melime was with everyone else. “I like you very much, Melime,” she said, over dinner.

“Thank you. It is mutual, you know.”

“I know. And I know that you know that I don’t mean it in a simple way. That I like you in many ways. That I would like to kiss you.”

Melime slowly placed her fork down and rearranged the napkin on her lap. “I know,” she said, looking down, in an uncharacteristically coy way.

“So?” Aredhel asked.

Melime looked up, her blue eyes fierce and bright. “I didn’t kiss you back on that day because I wanted to be sure.”

“That I would stay?”

“Yes, but also more. That it - this -” she said, waving her hand between them, “is not something that will go away after a few pleasant moments.”

“You are too smart not to know that everything is ephemeral.”

“And you are too smart not to know that sometimes we make mistakes in love.”

“You mean Eöl.” Aredhel placed her napkin on the table and rose to her feet.

Melime rose too. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out that way. I meant in a general way. You know I would never throw that in your face.”

Aredhel pressed her lips but then relaxed. “I know. But for a moment, it hurt me.”

Melime crossed over to her and embraced her. “I’m sorry,” she said again, whispering into Aredhel’s hair.

Aredhel held her too. “It’s fine, really.”

Melime nodded. “Fine. So, I like you, you like me. You want to kiss me sometimes, but probably not right now, and it will be really awkward or really good when it happens, or both. Why not do it now?”

Aredhel looked into her eyes with a loving smile. “That is so romantic.”

Melime laughed. “Liar. You know perfectly well that I’m trying to dissuade you.” She let go of Aredhel and started collecting the dishes.

Aredhel started helping her and both shared the evening tasks, as in any other day.

When they were done, they walked to their rooms, to prepare for the evening. But before they said good night, Melime took Aredhel’s hand in hers. For a long time she caressed her fingers, massaged her palm, while staring intently at their joined hands. After a while, she looked up to Aredhel. Softly, she drew her closer, until their lips were almost touching. With her fingers, she gently traced the contour of Aredhel’s lips, making her shiver with desire. Aredhel forced herself to remain still, when everything that she wanted was to lean forward and finally kiss Melime.

Melime drew away and pulled Aredhel toward her room. As the door closed behind them, she took a step toward Aredhel and finally kissed her, gently, but surely. For all the waves of desire flooding her, Aredhel felt calm, secure. As she held Melime and their hands started roaming throughout each other’s bodies, the thrill of discovery set her alight, and still, she felt peaceful. 

When dawn came, Aredhel woke beside Melime, happy, feeling almost disbelief that this had happened. She let herself fall asleep again, despite her heart beating so hard as Melime murmured, “Sleep, love.” 

‘Love’. She was Melime’s love. And Melime was hers.

Finis  
February 2020


End file.
